


This Soul of Mine

by Whiskey_Tango_Foxtrott



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Arthur Ketch Being an Asshole, Arthur Ketch Needs a Hug, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hunters & Hunting, Major Character Injury, Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Monsters, Out of Character Arthur Ketch, Reader-Insert, Vampire Bites, Vampires, protective Sam and Dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-24 00:21:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30063807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whiskey_Tango_Foxtrott/pseuds/Whiskey_Tango_Foxtrott
Summary: Blood. A violent gushing, oozing crimson assault on the hardwood floors of the old musty cabin. An all to familiar cocktail of monster and human gore seeps through the cracks in the wood, pools under the nails that hold the floor together. Bodies lay strewn around, already cooling as the sun finishes it's decent in the sky, bringing forth an inky black starless night. The foul stench of rotten meat, so distinctly sickeningly, sweet curls around the hunter's nostrils. She wasn't supposed to be alone for this vamp nest, wasn't supposed to be joining the fanged monsters through the process of death. Her hunting partner, Ketch, was supposed to be there, watching her back and yet he hadn't even known she was here on a hunt.
Relationships: Arthur Ketch/Reader, Arthur Ketch/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. Man, I Really Hate Shifters

There’s a certain kind of madness when working alongside an ex-assassin. A creeping, nagging feeling that scratches at your brain with the need for attention. Maybe this partnership works because you were already a little unhinged before Ketch came into your life. Or maybe it works because despite knowing full well what he’s done, you’ve done things too. The kind of things that worsen your already persistent insomnia, the kind of things that make looking in the mirror a task more difficult than killing actual monsters. Ketch has a cold and rough exterior. He was cocky and arrogant and sometimes the urge to punch his stupid smug face is so strong that you have to step out of the room for a moment to collect yourself. Other times though, he’s charming. All fancy expensive suits, suave hair, and an award-winning smile. Most of it is an act. The usual “fake it till you make it” routine that all hunters have to master to gather intel for cases. But sometimes, when it’s just the two of you, coming down from the high of killing the monster of the week, there’s a softer side to him. The side where he lets you stitch him up and wipe the blood from his skin with a cool washcloth and lingering touches. A side where he returns those same electric strokes while tending to your wounds. Those moments may be rare but when they do come around, it’s like being in a bubble away from the rest of the world. Just the two of you in a motel room with unspoken feelings that neither of you is sure enough about anyways because as soon as the night ends, so does the softness between you. Sunrise seems to bring a spell of amnesia to the both of you because come morning, it’s back to being business partners and nothing more. 

For today though, a pair of shifters had been stealing folk's faces in a small town in Missouri and using them to commit crimes ranging from armed robbery to murder. When police started investigating, the body of the first suspect turned up in his home and autopsies revealed that strangely enough, the victim had been dead for days despite being caught on camera stabbing someone just the day before. The local law enforcement was of course completely baffled but you and Ketch knew what was going on almost immediately. The plan was for Ketch to talk to the neighbors of the first victim in hopes that they had seen something while you spoke to the Sheriff about the other victims. The first, Frankie Calhoun had been caught on CCTV stabbing a woman to death in an alley behind a pharmacy. The second, Laura Marley had walked into her office building and shot the place up. And the third, Paul Wilson had robbed a liquor store just a few blocks from his home. The problem? They were all dead several days prior to being caught on security cameras. The police were convinced that the footage was tampered with in some way but the glint in the suspects' eyes that the cameras managed to pick up told a different story. While you decided to just let the locals have their theories on just what the hell was going on in their town, you conjured up your own. What exactly was their goal anyway? Were they targeting these specific people for a reason or were they just having a monster’s idea of a fun time? You excused yourself from the Sheriff’s office and he acknowledged you with a nod as he directed his deputies to run the footage through corruption software. Slipping into the conference room, you dialed Ketch’s number. After three rings, he picked up. 

“Ah, I was just about to ring you. Find anything interesting?” He inquired. 

“Actually, yeah. I know we were already leaning towards the shifter theory but I just reviewed the evidence tapes and I saw the eyes. And I uh...I think we’re dealing with a pair here, Ketch.”

“What makes you so sure? Shifters are usually known to hunt solo.” He was doubting you. Again. 

“The timelines don’t add up, no way just one shifter can shed that fast, slip into a completely different persona, and kill almost a dozen more people in half an hour.” You rolled your eyes as if he could see you giving him snark but quickly adjusted your expression to neutral upon realizing that the Sheriff had been watching you. 

“Alright, then we’d better start mapping out the sewer system so we can find them before they grab anyone else. Meet me back at the motel and we’ll discuss the details further.”

Yeah sure but-“ your phone sounded with a beep indicating that he’d already hung up on you and you pulled a bitch face that rivaled Sam himself. “Asshole.”

*********************************************************************************************************

Back at the motel, the two of you review the blueprints for the town’s sewer system while you eat dinner. Ketch regarded you with disgust as you shoved another slice of pizza in your mouth. 

“Ugh, must you eat like a toddler? It’s quite unladylike you know.” 

“Okay, first of all, you should see Dean eat, and then we’ll talk,” you pointed your half-eaten pizza slice at him and his eyes followed as sauce dripped onto the paper you were supposed to be researching and he scrunched his nose, “and secondly, if you want me in tip-top shape to kick some shifter ass, you’ll let me enjoy my pizza without the commentary. Nobody hunts good on an empty stomach, Ketch.” 

“I am not eating that. You Americans and your grease.” 

“Oh come on, don’t be a bitch baby” You slid the pizza box closer to him as you took another bite from your slice. His disgust morphed to bewilderment. 

“Bitch baby? What even is that?” 

“It’s what you’re being.” You take another bite and cross your arms.

“My god, you really are a child.” 

“Says the picky eater. Just at least try a piece before you shit on it,” you finished your slice and took a sip of your coke, “it’s good, I promise.” You give the box another nudge and with a huff and roll of his eyes, he gives in.

You watch him closely, waiting to gauge his reaction as he takes the first bite. He notices your stare and glares at you as he chews. You raise your hands in mock surrender with a smirk as you see him go for another bite. 

“Hmm, it’s almost like I was right or something.” You grin and he lets out an amused chuckle as he finishes chewing.

“I must admit, it’s not as dreadful as I anticipated.” The two of you shared a laugh as you finised up the research...and the pizza. ************************************************************************************************************ 

The sewer is...well it’s a sewer all right. It stinks because of course it does and the sludge the two of you are currently wading through is making your stomach roll. Okay so maybe Ketch was right about not eating so many slices of pizza. Not that you’re gonna admit that to him though. You’ve got your guns loaded with silver bullets and blades attached to your hips just in case. So far, you’d been in the sewer for an hour with little to no luck. Ketch even spotted what he thought to be a clump of shed shifter flesh until you pointed out that he was poking at a dead rat. At least the face he made upon hearing that was priceless.

“Okay, this isn’t working. I think it’s about time we split up.” You halted your trek through the goo and aimed your flashlight at Ketch as he turned to face you. a fork in the tunnel was ahead.

“You think that’s a good idea?” He raised his brow.

“Well we’re not making any progress at this pace and I’d like to finish up here and shower this nastiness off.”

“Alright,” he shrugged, “don’t die.” He said plainly as he took the tunnel going to the left.

“Right back at you, crumpets.” You shot back and could just barely hear him chuckle from his tunnel. You laughed and then turned to your tunnel on the right.

As it turns out, dark and smelly sewers get a lot creepier when you’re alone. Without Ketch walking beside you, you feel exposed. Each drop of water from leaky pipes makes your hair stand on edge and the sloshing of the water under your feet is so loud that it makes you anxious you won’t hear something sneak up behind you. You clutch your gun tighter and grit your teeth. You’ve killed shifters before, of course, you have but something here feels wrong. You start to wonder if you should have called Sam and Dean for backup just in case but they’re busy with trying to save Mary and Jack from the apocalypse world so you’d decided that you and Ketch could handle it.

As you continue deeper into the tunnel, you get that familiar prickle on the back of your neck that someone is watching you. Whirling around, gun drawn, you see nothing. Absolutely nothing. The pit in your stomach grows but you resume your exploration. You hope Ketch is just as on edge without you as you are without him. It only takes a few more steps forward when it hits you. The absolutely foul stench of decay smacks you in the face and crawls up your nose to stay. Your eyes water and on instinct, your arm flies up to cover your nose from the attack on your senses. You see a faint orange glow and wander towards it, as you approach, the stench grows ever stronger and you gag. You’ve seen some nasty stuff in your days as a hunter but this is pretty gnarly. there are candles everywhere, leaving behind trails of wax and lighting up the area enough that you turn off your flashlight. You’ve reached a dead end but it’s obvious that the creatures live here. The piles of shed skin are...well they’re everywhere and it becomes obvious that they’ve taken more victims than the three you know about based on the sheer amount of flesh. There are chunks of hair and even some teeth sticking out of some of the meat sacks and you gag again. This is starting to remind you why you hate shifters so much.

So you’ve found their den but...where are they? You stand up from your crouch and back away from the goop as you pull your phone out of your pocket and dial Ketch. It rings, and rings, and rings. He doesn’t answer and that uneasy feeling creeps back up your spine. You try again, pacing as it rings but again it goes to voicemail. You go to try a third time but pause when you hear footsteps sloshing through the water and they’re coming right for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is my first time posting any of my work so I hope ya’ll enjoy :)
> 
> Also, I’d like to mention how much I initially hated Ketch’s character when he was first introduced in the show but now I am obsessed lmao.


	2. Sewer Sludge is NOT Attractive

Your heart is practically beating out of your chest as the sloshing sound gets louder, signaling a rapid approach. There are only a few seconds to think so you react on pure instinct and duck behind a meat sack. Your hands dig into the fleshy goo unconsciously and you recoil in disgust. It's still warm. Your actions freeze when you hear whatever is right next to you. It hasn't noticed yet and your chest begins to burn from holding your breath. The shifter growls as it looks around. It knows that something is different about its den but hasn't quite picked up on your presence. There's only one and a pit forms in your stomach as you begin to wonder if that's why Ketch wasn't answering his phone. As if on cue, your phone lights up and vibrates with his contact flashing on your screen. Your eyes widen and despite the ringer is off, you know that somehow, the creature heard the vibration. You're ripped from behind your hiding place as the shifter snags you by the hair. You yelp and struggle against him. Digging your nails into his wrists in a desperate attempt to escape but his hold on you is too tight. He yanks you to his chest and taunts you.

"And where do you think you're going?" It growls in your ear as it yanks harder on your hair. 

Your blood runs cold. You know that voice. The shifter is wearing Ketch. You thrash wildly as he drags you further into the den, kicking and screaming causes him to tighten his grip, sending shooting pain through your scalp and tearing out clumps of hair in the process. He's getting frustrated and it's obvious that while he may be wearing your partner's face, he sure as hell doesn't have his skill because you're finally able to escape his grasp with a swift shift of your weight to throw him off balance. You go for your knife, having dropped your gun during the struggle, and slash at him. You graze his arm and he hisses as the silver slices through his skin but it's not a solid enough hit to stop him. He lunges for you unexpectedly and the two of you topple over. He's straddling you, using his legs to pin your hips and keep you from kicking at him. As you wrestle for the knife, it's knocked from your grasp as you go for another slash and then he hits you.  
Hard.  
Your head snaps back against the concrete floor and your vision explodes with stars, your ears ring and you desperately try to blink away the pain. He doesn't give you the chance to recover as he lands another punch to your jaw which slams your skull once again to the floor and it's enough to knock you out cold this time. He smirks in triumph as you go limp and he climbs off of you. Your phone, having been dropped behind the meat sack when he nabbed you, buzzes again as the real Ketch tries to reach you and the shifter gets an idea. Picking up the phone, he takes on a new voice.

**********************************************************************************************************************

When you come to, it's pitch black and you're soaked. You shiver and your body locks up in pain as you shake. Hands flying to your jacket pocket, you desperately search for your phone but the familiar weight is absent and your heart sinks. You take a deep breath and try to calm yourself but recoil at the stench. And then you remember where you are. You call out for Ketch but are met with silence aside from leaking pipes. Standing is a lot more difficult than it should be as your head spins and you know that if it wasn't already so dark, you'd have black spots swimming in your vision. You manage to stumble a few steps before falling and just barely catching yourself on a damp slimy wall. You reach up in a daze and let your fingers wander the back of your head with curiosity, feeling a sharp stinging sensation as your fingers graze a rough edge. Your hair is a tangled, matted mess but it's obvious that there's a decent gash on the back of your head that's oozing a bit. Okay so you're dealing with a concussion but you've had much worse in this line of work, you think to yourself. 

Using the nasty wall to guide yourself out of the tunnel, you grumble to yourself knowing full well that there were several candles lit before you were knocked out. Had the shifter blew them out to spite you or had you been down in the sewer long enough for them to burn out on their own? The thought of being unconscious in the sludge for several hours while Ketch was god only knows where doing who knows what was unpleasant, to say the least. Was he even still alive? The thoughts made you increase your speed as best you could despite stumbling through the water. You were making an awful amount of noise but you needed to get out immediately so you could only hope that the shifters were long gone by now. Not to mention that the goop had seeped through your boots, leaving you with the unwelcome feeling of wet socks rubbing against your skin. 

As you finally make it past the final curve of your tunnel and back out to the fork where you and Ketch split up, you call for him again. Nothing. You audibly swallow and consider your options. On one hand, you need to find Ketch ASAP but on the other, you were unarmed and still had no form of light. Reluctantly, you make your way back to the ladder that would lead you out of the sewers so that you could go back to your car and stock up. The walk back to the exit of the sewer feels miles long and as much as you don't want to admit it, you're running out of steam. So maybe that concussion was worse than you thought. You make it a few more feet before collapsing to your knees, creating an all new layer of filth to your jeans. Your head is pounding and the ringing in your ears is back with a vengeance. You grit your teeth and clench your fists until your nails dig into your palms, taking deep breaths, you try to gather yourself but everything just feels heavy, like your brain has a sudden thick fog surrounding it. You wonder briefly if this is it, if you're going to die in this disgusting sewer like that rat Ketch was prodding at earlier. The thought of that alone seems to bring you enough spite to get back on your feet and you start towards the exit at a snail's pace.

When you do finally make it up the ladder somehow and into the fresh air, it's blindingly bright out. You squint and throw your hand to your forehead to block the harsh rays. Your lungs greedily take in the clean air and your head feels a little clearer. As your eyes finally adjust to the light you realize just how boned you are. You and Ketch had entered the sewers late in the night so as not to draw attention to yourselves as you crawled through a manhole with guns. It's now bright as hell out and a glance at your watch tells you it's 11 am. Your veins turn to ice and you freeze as you look around for the car that you'd left parked in the empty alley. Your 1967 mustang is nowhere in sight which is saying something since the damn thing is bright cherry red. Did that bastard really leave you here and take your car? You were going to kill that asshole.

**********************************************************************************************************************

Hot wiring cars is second nature to you at this point so it doesn't take long to get a ride back to the motel that you'd been staying at with Ketch. The ride itself is pretty short but unpleasant nonetheless. Now that you're in a confined space and the sewer isn't overwhelming your senses, the stench clinging to your clothes is making itself known. You're pretty sure that you're staining the light gray seats with the nastiness and realize it's a good thing you didn't have to drive your car in this state after all. You spot your mustang almost immediately and pull up next to it with a smile. Things may suck ass right now but at least she's okay, not a scratch or dent in sight so you might just go easy on Ketch. You feel around in your jeans pockets for the spare key and pop your trunk. You dig around for a handgun and some silver bullets that you know are in here. Maybe Ketch had a point after all when he constantly berated you about your disorganized trunk but that was an issue for another day. You find the gun and grab a silver dagger for good measure. Glancing around the motel parking lot, you thank whoever's listening that it's empty. Stalking to the door of your shared room, you press your ear to the door and listen intently as quiet voices just barely register. You try the knob gently but it won't budge. You remember handing the room key to Ketch after locking it when the two of you left last night and you curse. 

Sending one last quick glimpse around the lot to make sure you're still alone, you take a deep breath, stand back a few steps from the door, wind up, and kick that shit down. The whole frame shakes and a few splinters shoot out as the lock gives in and sends the door flying open with a thud so loud that your teeth rattle. You raise your gun and charge in. the occupants are frozen in place, staring up at you with faces so shocked that it'd almost be hilarious if one of them wasn't your clone. Ketch blinks up at you as his mind takes a second to process what the hell is going on. Your shifter clone is sitting in his lap with its arms around his neck as he sits on the foot of his bed. Wait, what the fuck?!

His mind finally seems to catch up and he shoves the shifter off of him and to the floor. It manages to catch itself and lunges for you. You fire and hit in the shoulder but it's not enough to drop it. You're tackled to the musty carpet and your gun slides across the floor as not-you pins your wrists. Your head bounces against the floor but luckily the impact isn't jarring enough to knock you out again. You flail and knee it in the chest, giving yourself enough time to wrench an arm free and clock it in the face. It falls off of you in a daze but quickly recovers. As it charges you again, you fumble to get your knife from the holster, and just as it's about to grab you again, a gunshot goes off. You jump as your clone throws its head back from the impact of the bullet between its eyes. Blood sprays the tan wall behind it and you watch with wide eyes as not-you collapses. Dead. Whirling your head to look behind you, you find Ketch, gripping your gun tightly as he stares right past you. His gaze locked onto your carbon copy that he just shot in the face. Holy shit. 

"Ketch," you try but his gaze remains locked on the dead shifter, "Ketch? It's dead, you got it, we're good." You manage to pull yourself up and walk over to him. He tenses as you place your hand on the gun to lower it.

"Right, yes of course it is, I'm an excellent shot." He relaxes and lets you take the gun as he finally breaks his stare away from the creature wearing your face. 

His tone is playful but there's something about his expression that just doesn't seem right. It clicks in your brain that maybe it wasn't exactly pleasant to basically shoot your partner in the face. You place a hand on his shoulder and give him a sincere look for once.

"Seriously though, thanks for the assist."

"You're welcome, but from now on, no more suggesting that we split up on hunts." He looks down to your hand resting on his shoulder and you clear your throat awkwardly as you remove it, shuffling a few steps back from him.

"Just what exactly happened anyway? Did you let that thing drive my car?" 

"Well to be fair, I thought it was you and you never let me drive that thing so," he trailed off as he moved to the door to push it closed as the sound of voices echoed in the parking lot. It doesn't latch properly given that you'd just busted it open but it shields the gory sight from the passerby's view just fine. "As for what happened, I took care of the first shifter when I found it mid-shed in the tunnel I went down. That's why I didn't take your calls. I did try returning your calls but when you didn't pick up I started making my way towards you. Then when you did finally pick up, you told me that you'd eliminated the other one and wanted to meet at the fork."

"And you didn't realize something was wrong? Ketch, we've been working together for months and you didn't notice it wasn't me?" You raised your brow at him.

"You're right, I should've known something was amiss when you were unusually pleasant company." He shot back with that familiar cocky smile.

"Yeah yeah, whatever man. It's okay you don't have to admit that you missed my charm, I already know." You winked.

"That stench coming from you is anything but charming, darling." He moved to sit on his bed and crossed his arms as he got comfortable.

"Ok yeah? well, you go lay in a sewer for several hours and let me know if you come out smelling like roses," you huffed as you made a grab for your duffle bag and turned towards the bathroom, "I'm gonna go shower this gunk off and you should start figuring out how to clean that up so we can bounce when I'm done." You motioned to the dead shifter and Ketch leveled you with a scowl.

"Fine but if I do all the work then I get to pick where we stop for lunch on the road."

"Dude, that is so unfair." He shrugs and you roll your eyes at him before shutting the bathroom door behind you.

Once the door is shut and locked, you turn the shower to it's hottest setting and stare at yourself in the mirror as it starts to fog up. Undressing is painful now that all your adrenaline has worn off and the aches have set in. You take in your appearance and frown as you just now see the deep scratch marks littering your arms. There are clear lines of scum from where your sleeves were rolled up, creating an awful fake tan effect. There's blood on your hands from your head wound and your neck seems to be suffering the same fate. More blood than you were anticipating but nothing you hadn't already seen before. The blood on your hands has crusted under your nails and the cracks in your hands, brownish-red flakes fall into the sink as you scratch at your palms. You give up, realizing you're just making a bigger mess, and step into the shower. The warm spray is comforting at first as it hits your back and soothes your muscles but your sigh of relief morphs to a hiss of pain as the water hits your scalp. The water at your feet is quickly dyed red and you flinch at how dark it is. 

You rinse the blood from your hair as best as you can and then reach for your shampoo bottle only to realize that you'd never taken it out of your bag last night. Your duffle is just on the bathroom counter but the thought of leaving the warmth sends a shiver down your spine so you reach for whatever shampoo Ketch has in there, thankful that at least he had remembered to unpack. It's a comfortingly familiar scent that washes over you as you pour some out into your hand and massage it into your sore scalp. You find yourself pleasantly surprised when you notice Ketch also had a bottle of conditioner on the shower shelf, something you might have teased him over if it wasn't so helpful. The bathroom starts smelling less and less like the gross sewer as something entirely Ketch takes over the room.

You find your mind drifting as you scrub your body with his body wash and a cheap motel washcloth. That shifter had been getting awfully close to Ketch when you burst into the room earlier. He'd admitted to fully believing it was you but neither of you really addressed what you'd seen. You knew he wasn't the type to open up but if he'd let not-you get so friendly with him then maybe there was a possibility there was more to this partnership than you knew. Shaking your head and laughing lightly to yourself, you dismiss that thought immediately. Ketch was not that kind of guy. Sure the two of you had fun. sometimes but the man was all business. If anything, he'd just seen an opportunity for a quick lay and took it. Plus you kind of had a thing for Sam anyways. Not that ketch wasn't attractive in his own way but he just didn't seem emotionally available. Then again, neither did you if you were being honest. 

Finishing up in the shower, you turn the water off and reluctantly step out of the tub. The room is thick with steam but goosebumps still form on your skin at the temperature change. Without the layers of nastiness and blood, your injuries are more visible. Bruises are starting to form on your cheekbone and chin where shifter-Ketch had hit you and the scratches on your arms are angry red streaks all along your arms and wrists. You imagine that the head wound is probably looking pretty nasty but judging by the lack of blood on your neck, it must have clotted finally which is good because you really didn't want head stitches. You jump at the sound of knocking at the bathroom door.

"(Y/N)? I've taken care of everything out here. We should really leave soon though because there was only so much I could do about that awful carpet stain."

"Yeah, I'll be right out, just let me get dressed." You hear him mumble something about how you need to hurry the hell up but you ignore it and use the scratchy motel towel to dry yourself off, taking extra care with the back of your head as you dry your hair.

When you're finally in clean and dry clothes, you step out of the bathroom and scan the room. Ketch had actually done a pretty good job with cleanup compared to how bad it was but there was definitely still a decent-sized red stain on the carpet. Hopefully, the cleaning lady would think it was just wine or something. 

"You ready to head back?" Ketch appeared through the door and grabbed your duffle to take out to the car for you.

"I'm more than ready to leave this damn town. Why don't you drive this time?" You answered as you followed him out into the parking lot.

He paused and turned to look at you with a look of confusion. "Are you feeling alright? I'm never allowed to drive your baby."

"That's because you drive like a psychopath," you scoffed as you tossed him the key, "seriously, it probably wasn't even safe for me to drive here from the sewer earlier with this concussion,"

"You seem to have failed to mention that you have head trauma."

"Well, I'm mentioning it now so..."

"Oh my god, you're impossible."

"You know you love me." You sassed back as the two of you slid into your seats and he started the car."

"I tolerate you, at best." He chuckled.

"Just get to driving already, I wanna get back to the bunker in time for dinner tonight, Dean's making burgers."

He shook his head as he pulled out of the parking lot. You leaned over and changed the radio to your favorite station, cranking the volume to an obnoxious level, and singing right along. Ketch huffed and shot you a playful glare, pretending not to enjoy the song right along with you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I finally got chapter 2 finished and posted. This was edited while I’m suffering from sleep deprivation btw so I apologize in advance for any mistakes. Also, I’m trying to pace it so that it doesn’t get too crazy too fast but I also don’t want it to get boring so I hope y’all are enjoying it so far. Thanks for reading! :)


End file.
